Slipping Away

Sorry for the lack of updates folks, though I'm not sure if anyone actually reads these things. Its been a pretty hard month really, emotionally I've been all over the place as I received the news that my Uncle's lung cancer had been declared terminal and he had two weeks to live, having thought he was in remission it was a hard thing to come to terms with. I've seen him at least once a week since i can remember and he was the go-to man for stuff that needed to be fixed and to watch this terrible disease just waste him away was awful. He died on the 31st of March 2011

It transpired after his death that he had already sorted out most of the things for his funeral, written his own etipath thing and left stuff for my aunty to find like a bottle of her favourite perfume. This must have been prepared months in advance of him going downhill and I wonder if I would have the strength of mind to do that and not say it, as I think he knew his time was limited even though the rest of us were in ignorant bliss.

The funeral was about as nice as it was going to be, he had said we were all to wear bright colours which I thank him for because its something I can do. I will miss him greatly and wish he could have heard all the nice things people said about him. Anyway, enough rambling (though he enjoyed rambling by way of walking up mountains) here is the poem I wrote for his funeral:

For Uncle Grumpy
By Katy

Over mountain, hill and dale
In driving snow and howling gale
Up and down, night or day,
Bad jokes flying all the way.

No matter the weather, rain or shine.
Len in his shorts all the time.
How his legs never got cold
we never understood nor were told.

In the house you would wait with bread in the garden, the perfect bait.
You reminded me once of
Dick Dastardly
CATCH THE PIGEON!,
then let it free.

You told me once you knew everything,
of science, and nature, and physics and things, computers and history long since gone, though you couldn't name a
single Pokemon

It seems like only yesterday
When we all used to come and play
wrestling, fighting and piggy backs too
lying in wait to jump and shout BOO!

You gave us chin pie and made us shriek
At dinner on Sunday, every week.
You stole the Yorkshires without fail,
And ate them with gusto over a tale.

You were Uncle Grumpy since we were small, and we would always come and call
And shout and laugh and play for ages
In torment induced giggling hazes

You were always good at fixing stuff
The TV, the boiler, things that were duff
Though you grumbled about having to try, there were very few knots you
couldn’t untie.

We will miss you a lot,
You grumpy old thing,
Be it Sunday at dinner,
when the bell dings,
Or when we pop round
to say how do,
and ask if you could fix
the chimney flue
Or up a mountain on the top,
when its always a couple
more miles ‘til we stop.

Your family and friends have all gathered here, to say goodbye to a man so dear,
To so many hearts you meant a lot
And will always have a special spot,
Where memories of you
will be kept safe and sound,
and remembered fondly by those around.